Fire Coloured Jewel
by AmaraSidhe
Summary: Virginia "SoCo" -- 'Taker's daughter, a swearing banshee, and...she's a big part of Indigo X's Gilded Nightmares. This is just backstory, cos she's actually -my- character. Pfft. R for language -- R&R? Cos I love you? *Finished!*
1. Barging In.

Fire Coloured Jewel   
By AmaraSidhe 

(Note -- WWFish characters are not mine, though I wish they were. Yeah. And Kari Foley, and Melinda Flair (they should show up eventually) belong to Indigo X. Oh, how I love Indy. Virginia "SoCo" Calloway is a muse of my own head, and copyrighted me. Thus ends the lovely disclaimer.) 

"No one, but no one…will mess with me and get away with it."   
I'm in my locker room, well, the little sweaty box that resembles my own personal space, punching the door and repeating my mantra-ish bit, not even worrying about the fact that I could split my knuckles.   
Again. 

But I'm SoCo Calloway, nightmare of the world – or at least the WWF. Child of 'Taker and a long-forgotten muse. Well, I certainly hadn't forgotten her, but…   
That was another story entirely.   
I mean, Daddy had left when I was something…a wee bit around seven or so, and I really…no. It wasn't something I liked to think about. 

Mom's dead.   
Dad's an asshole – well, he was an asshole when I'd left, too, but…now, he was even more of an asshole.   
"Badass…yeah, I see that. JACKass is more like it, but I'm not one to really say anything." 

Long auburn waves twist around my shoulders and flow to my probably too-tiny waist, over my too-large chest (I have a shirt that says "yes, they ARE real," if that tells you anything), and I bite my lip, catching my reflection in the mirror…   
Wild green eyes sparkle with an unknown fire, a desire to annihilate anything that comes in my path, a want…   
To let my father know where he stands in my life. 

Which – well, do the words 'absolutely nowhere' mean anything to you? 

Squinting a little, I bit my lip as I headed down the hallway, just watching people, eyes still, my entire frame almost –   
All I can think about is the Deer Hunter. Calm, but stalking. Scary, but…   
Underestimated.   
No one thought that the "Busty Redhead" would be an ass-kicking machine. I mean, true, they all knew the stock I came from, but… 

No one thought anything about the matter. 

-*- 

"Nah-ce…" I mean, true to life, things weren't as junky as I thought they would be, it being a testosterone playground, full of people beating everyone else up…   
Saying the same thing over all the time (see, "What?")…   
And otherwise… 

Well, there were the merits of seeing all sorts of nakedness. Always a plus. If I felt like being just plain dirty. Today, though…   
I had better things to do. 

One, being find my dad and let him know that the impish little darling he left almost fourteen years ago – well, she was ready to bite him in the ass. 

"Nah-ce hallway, nah-ce…"   
That unmistakable Diphthong from Hell™ rang out every time I opened my mouth (see what happens when you're born and raised in Ashland, Louisiana?), and as I surveyed things…   
Emerald eyes stopped on a very admirable butt. Then they moved up. 

Hellooooooooooo there. Apparently, I've hit the jackpot in the gorgeous booty department.   
And the rest of him ain't that bad either. 

"SoCo…" I said, sticking out a hand and firmly slapping him on the ass, a mischievous grin alighting those usually narrowed eyes. "…you look…interesting. Give me a name, hrm?"   
I couldn't resist, really. 

"Um…Rob…" He seemed a little caught off guard, and I shook my head, a deep, throaty laugh erupting from satin-bow lips. I'm sorry, things were clicking – just because I hadn't been IN the business my entire life didn't mean I didn't watch. 

"Oh, as in Rob Van Dam…'s in-ter-est-ing…" Syllables slow as I drank everything in hungrily, trying to take in everything I could, and just keep a little bit of mystery to myself.   
Can't give all the answers away first thing, right? 

So, in the spirit if keeping things mysterious (and therefore in my court), I flashed him a grin, then started down the hallway – leaving him to sputter by himself. 


	2. Stranger.

Chapter Two 

It's pretty damned odd, though, really. I mean, I'd been here a couple days, and aside from just running amok and working on getting myself together for when I actually had a match (as the Eternal Mr. T said, "I pity the fool who walks into this…") 

But I hadn't seen my Dad yet. Well – is that necessarily a bad thing? I mean, with the way things had been lately, and this 'respect' bit…   
I was starting to wonder if a confrontation was a good thing or not. 

Then again, am I one to jump ship because I think something might be a tad difficult? Of course not – that's why I'm the way I am, and the original badass –   
Well, okay, so I'm not. I'm actually sensitive and like sunsets and all that crap, but…   
Does it pay to be girly in this organization? Sometimes – but not a lot. 

Maybe – I'm just tensed up – that could be it. I really want to get to talk to my Dad, and kind of…well, part of me really doesn't want to threaten to kick his ass. Partially because…well, because he's my father. That's why.   
Yes, see me be sentimental. 

Part of me, though, keeps wandering to other things, other people…   
Who am I kidding? That ass. Okay…and the guy attached to it. I mean, I'd seen him around, and the more I saw, the more I liked. It's not that he was really my type, because…   
Let's get real, people, the boy is probably high on a little more than life. But that's just me being horrible.   
Or he could be on drugs.   
Let's put him on something, and get into my skivvy bits… 

And that bit of SoCo's naughty thoughts was brought to you by your neighborhood friendly pothead and…ahem. 

But…I'm heading down the hallway, now, toward the parking garage, where I'm assuming my dad would be – tinkering with the bike. Always the bike. Sometimes, I think that's why he left Mama an' me that Christmas…   
But hey, maybe it was a dream you gotta follow, and I can certainly understand that. Look where a dream has me at the moment. 

But…there's the bike. And…there he was, back to me.   
"Dad?" 

My voice was softer than it usually was, and I kicked myself internally for not being a hardass about this.   
I wanted a hug.   
I wanted to hide.   
I wanted… 

"Can you at least look at your little girl?" 


	3. I'm homicidal, how are you?

  
(Whee, time for the disclaimer -- I don't own any WWFish types, even though I wanted one for my birthday yesterday. Bluh. SoCo is mine, and...that's it. I have ice cream cake. All is good with the world.) 

He glanced over his shoulder, probably in disbelief that I was even standing there –   
Or maybe he was ticked off. I mean, I certainly wasn't the biggest fan of him, and in the respect department…   
I certainly seemed to be lacking. 

"What the hell…?" 

"Yeah Dad, it's me. Surprised?" Dark auburn eyebrows arched a little, and I crossed my arms over my chest, just waiting for him to start yelling at me about respect and blah blah blah and how I had no right here whatsoever…   
A lot of people said things like that. 

And actually, I don't know if I was ready for this. 

"You know what, Dad? Forget it – you're obviously too busy thinking that you're the greatest thing in the damned world and that everyone owes you everything, and I don't owe you a damn thing. And you know what? I'll just stay the hell out of your life." 

That's not what I wanted to say, but hey, when I get emotional, things just pop out of my mouth and I have no control of them –   
That leads to foot-in-mouth moments.   
That also leads to me…dashing out of there and SWEARING I'm not going to cry. 

-*- 

After that little…incident, I'm hiding. I don't want anyone to see the fact that my hair is disheveled, and I've been beating my head against the wall for the past forty-five minutes – okay…   
I wasn't banging my head against the wall, I was playing 'kill the punching bag.' A wonderful game, especially if you're waxing homicidal/suicidal. 

"Why the hell did I end up coming here in the first place? That bastard…doesn't…care…"   
Kick.   
Punch.   
Kick kick.   
Back handspring thingy kick. 

"You're plannin' on tearin' this place down?" As a voice perked up behind me, I stopped the assault of the bag, biting my lip, hoping I didn't have trails of mascara all over my face, and…   
Well, I didn't like people seeing me weak and vulnerable. It just…it wasn't right. 

"Who wants to know?" Slowly, cautiously, I turned around, jade eyes squinted slightly, arms raised at my chest, as if to prepare for an attack, to protect myself…   
Always be ready for a fight. 

"Whoa, whoa…chill out, girl. I was just sayin'…"   
  



	4. I Dare You.

(No, I still don't own anyone in the WWF, but that doesn't keep me from crossing my fingers and living in delusion. But I've got one foot (toe?) firmly planted in the real world, hence the disclaimer. Whee.) 

As my gaze settled, I took things in, and realized that there wasn't any threat standing in front of me. Just…Rob.   
Who looked kind of confused to the fact that I seemed to be out for any type of destruction I could get my hands on… 

I'm a very angry girl. 

"What're you just sayin' now?" Nonchalantly, I tugged down the hem of my tank top, which had decided to ride halfway up my stomach when I was on the kickboxing binge. Auburn waves stuck to my shoulders in damp beginnings of curls, and I knew…   
Well, I looked like hell.   
But I was worried about this because…? It wasn't part of my nature to be all girly. I mean, the last time I was girly was when I was thirteen or so, and some boy tried to look up the skirt I'd worn to school…   
I'd decked him a good one and ended up in detention for a week, but it'd been worth it, I think. 

Get your mind on the present, Calloway. You need to actually act like you have half a brain and aren't just Playmate material. 

"Sorry, just been kind of a shitty day."   
Sighing, I crouched on the floor, glancing up at him every couple seconds while I stretched, wondering if he was just going to stand there, or say something, or just…well, leave like any normal human being would.   
I mean, me angry is usually one of those things you avoid at all costs. 

"You…wanna talk? Or just kill people?"   
"Hrm? You mean you'd actually listen."   
"Well, yeah."   
"Um…okay…" Look at me, being stunned. Yeah – he's offering to hear me out on how horrible things are – maybe it's the drugs I think he's on. But still, it was a nice surprise. 

"Just…family issues. You know? My mom's dead, my dad's an asshole, and I can't seem to fit in many places." I feel like I'm talking to a therapist again, like I did when I was younger, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes a little at the oddness of the whole situation.   
"It's like, I'm this weird-ass gypsy chick who can't settle roots down anywhere, and has to rely on herself because she has no friends, and…I feel like such a cry-baby, and I should shut up…" 

"You don't have to…" This really kinda freaked me out, when he sat down on the floor beside me, watching me, and just…   
Being halfway like…supportive. Friend-like. Something I didn't have. 

"I've only seen you around a couple times, yeah, but…I sure as hell wouldn't want you mad at me, cos I doubt I'd be in one piece. You've…there's somethin' there that I haven't seen a lot of girls have, and I can't put my finger on it…" 

"Natural boobs?" I couldn't help but snicker a little, trying to make a lame attempt at humor. Laying back, I peer up at Rob, arching a brow, and just kind of waiting for him to go on. 

"No, not that, but…I don't know, that could be something too. It's just, you're…I don't know you that well, but I think I'd like to, actually. Maybe that's just me watching my back and hoping that you won't kick my ass, because I think you could, or maybe it's me actually wanting to be a friend." 

"Yeah…I could take that either way." 

"I know you will, but I'm not afraid of that." Now wasn't that a big fat LIE on his part, boys and girls? Cute, but a lie. 

"Tell you what, Van Dam." I sat up again, biting my lip, wondering why I was even thinking about jumping into something like this, but…   
It's just like me to be spontaneous, isn't it? A real firecracker.   
"Try kissin' me. If I punch your lights out, you know I which way I took it. If I don't…well, you know that way too."   
Yes, I'm horrible. 

"Ah…well…then…" He looked kind of bewildered at my request, but I'd imagined he would be, just because I was being so direct about it. Most girls weren't like that…   
I wasn't most girls (big surprise there, huh?).   
"I guess I should brace myself for a punchin'…" 

I had other ideas. 

And it was nice, actually. I mean, he wasn't like, all trying to maul me and get his hands in places that would most likely result in his fingers being broken at each and every knuckle, just because I wasn't that type of girl…   
Nice.   
I could get used to this, really. I mean, for a guy you thought was on drugs, he's actually kind of a sweetheart (that's what I'm getting, anyway), and a really good kisser, and… 

That's when I heard a growl that made my blood run cold. My dad. Last time I checked, he wasn't too keen on Rob.   
Translation: He wanted to rip his damn head off. 

"Virginia Lorelai Calloway, what in the hell do you think you're doing?" 


	5. Busted.

FCJ – chapter 5   
(SoCo is STILL mine, like it or not. And guess what? No one wants to hand over any WWF-types for me, even though I know I'd take real good care of them. Oh well, I don't think my parents would adore a circus under our roof. Alas.) 

"What does it look like?" A slightly annoyed voice rose from the tangled limbs, and I glared up at Dad, then kinda shrugged apologetically at Rob. Yeah…   
Talk about ruining the moment, really. I mean, I was having perfect amounts of fun, and boom, all of the sudden, my asshole of a father has to go all parental on me. Christ on a crutch… 

"Don't give me your attitude, Virginia…"   
"For the love of God, will you stop calling me that?" Fully pulling myself away this time, I grumbled a little more, then studied my father in all his rage, because…   
Well, believe me, he was pissed to hell and back that his 'little girl' wasn't really ending up the way he'd thought she should be, even if he had decided to skip out on her when she was seven… 

I've got some pent up rage of my own, too. Have we mentioned that yet? 

"Don't give me your respect speech either, okay? If I'm right, what I'm doing is none of your damn business." This is when I crossed my arms and just glared. You know the look – the scary green-eyed monster look, the one that stopped you dead in your tracks and turned your insides to Jell-O and then to primordial ooze.   
No fun at all. 

Of course, apparently, the attention had shifted who my kissing people to the person I'd been kissing, and now – fury was flyin'. 

"Y'listen' here, Van Dam. Touch mah dautah one more time, evah, and I swear t'God I'll kick your ass…and y'won't live to tell about it…"   
At one time, 'Taker's growl would have intimidated me, but I've pretty much got over that phase in my life, mainly because somewhere, I know I've got that same darkness in my soul. I'm just – well, I have better control over it. 

"You even CONSIDER kicking his ass, I will see to it that you hurt in places you didn't know existed." Yes, see me. Threatening Dad.   
Who, apparently, found this amusing. I, on the other hand, did not, and my fist was going to tell him that.   



	6. Seein' the Shrink.

FCJ – Chapter Six 

(Amara owns WWF-types. Survey says…NO! *le sigh* Just don't want to get sued or anything, though I'm sure that Mystic or Indy wouldn't sue me seeing as they seem to be the only ones reading. And…yeah. Indy knows how much I'm (not) worth. Yeah. So…disclaimer over. NO! Wait! Kari Foley belongs to Indy. Yeah. She's in this chapter.) 

BIG MISTAKE. 

Once again, I had underestimated the stock I'd come from, and Dad had sent me flying across the room and smack into the wall, and that…well, that was definitely something I didn't want to experience again. My arm hurt, and I could feel that wonderful piercing sensation in my back that came along with meeting concrete. 

"Fuuuuuuuuuck…." 

Pulling myself up, albeit slowly, I glared at my father, then bit my bleeding lip, trying to hold back the fact that I was in a pretty substantial amount of pain, and I certainly didn't like it.   
Someone could make my insides outsides, and I'd still insist I was perfectly fine. It's like Monty Python or something – "I'm not dead yet!"   
I'm…special. 

-*- 

"Sonovabitch just kinda threw me across the room, and boom, I hit wall, and there really wasn't much I could do about it – which kind of pissed me off, so he's gonna get his…" 

I was now curled up on a footlocker, taping up my midsection/back area, tossing a bag of ice here and there, trying to keep the bruises from turning anything into anything ugly, and…   
I was seeking advice from Kari – yeah, Kari Foley, spawn of hardcore legend and spazmatic extraordinaire. We go way back…   
Okay, so I only met her a month ago, but for me, that IS a while. 

"But anyway, what do I do about this whole Rob situation?"   
"It's turned into a situation?"   
"Yes, if it hadn't, you think I'd be asking you what to do, oh Brilliance-In-Flannel? Get it together, Foley. I know for a fact that if Captain Asshole hadn't walked in, we would have been fucking each other's brains out right there in the gym, and…" 

"That's more than I wanted to know, really." Kari rolled her eyes, stifled a snicker, and tugged a little on her red and black flannel shirt. She was probably one of my favorite people around here, basically because she always had something relevant to say… 

And if she didn't, she was probably busy trying to beat someone to death.   
"But…hrm…" 

"Hrm what? I need some advice here, okay? I don't just need a shrink going 'ah, I see' at every little problem I have, and this is a big problem. I mean, I'm not the girliest girl in the world…"   
"Look who you're talking to…"   
"ANYWAY!" Sighing, I closed my eyes, letting out a deep breath, just wanting to hurt someone, or go ballistic, or…   
Just figure this damned thing out. Yeah, that'd be nice. 

"He's…kinda cool. And a good kisser, and…I don't know. Maybe I'm getting like, second hand pot smoke or something…" A lopsided grin twitched the corner of my mouth, and I shake my head, glancing to the door, just to make sure no one was coming that this might be useful to…   
I sure as hell didn't need blackmailed. 

"For the love of God, just tell him, okay? I mean, it's not like he doesn't already have a clue that you might just dig him – I mean, I'm sure you don't go around swabbing people's tonsils with your tongue just for kicks, well…" 

"I'm not a ho, Kari. I just…"   
"You act like one at times."   
"Maybe." Shrugging, I adjusted the ice pack on my back, thinking about how I probably looked like a turtle. _Yeah. I'm a Ninja Turtle. Great.___

"I'll tell him, though…" I resolved. "Later." 

  



	7. Nightmares.

(Blah. I'm running out of cute and witty things to say – I'm worth five bucks and a pack of orange tic-tacs. WWF characters aren't mine. Please don't sue.) 

And I meant what I said about going to tell him about all of this, I really did…   
I just had absolutely no intention of telling him anytime in the near future. I mean, not within my natural life…   
That was logical, wasn't it? I mean, even if I did tell Rob, it's not like he'd take it seriously. I mean, how could anyone that laid back take anything seriously? 

Ah, now you see my point. He's probably just desperate, and I'm the first female nearby. 

After the talk with Kari, however, I'm feeling a little better about things, thinking that maybe, I'm not really losing my mind, and that maybe, it's just a temporary lust bout, because…   
Well, nothing against the guy, but I don't see him as the type I'd get serious with.   
Serious is probably a word that eludes his grasp of knowledge, anyhow. 

-*- "Make it stop…."   
I can't seem to pull myself out of this nightmare, this scrolling, looping image of my mother dying, my father walking out, the hell I've put myself through in the past few years, just trying to make ends meet, trying not to end up dead, or on the streets, or…   
There are a lot of things I don't want to be. 

But…I'm lost in this nightmare, staring into my mother's dead eyes, seeing her sallow skin hung taut over bone, feeling that last raspy breath fall over parchment-dry lips…   
Why couldn't they do something… 

Then the nightmare flashes into a crackle a pop, a trail of smoke from the exhaust pipe of a motorcycle, the department-store smell that fished between branches of our artificial Christmas tree, the scent of sugar cookies and wrapping paper… 

Mama'd been crying, and I couldn't understand why.   
"You're Daddy's left, 'Ginia. He's not comin' back…"   
At six years old, I didn't understand what she'd meant – he was my daddy, of course he'd be back, and things would be perfect. It'd be the best Christmas ever, and I'd get the Easy Bake Oven I'd been bugging my parents about for six months. 

There was no Easy Bake Oven, he left, and my mother died.   
Now, in my dreams, it was all throwing itself at me, and I didn't have any choice in the matter… 

-*- "GODDAMMITMAKEITSTOP!" There was no feeling like waking up from that nightmare, waking up from a horrific past to see a lonely present, to see blackness, to hear…   
A knock on the door? 

"Ah-m fine…really. Go away…"   
Whoever it was on the other side of door number one didn't need to know my troubles. 


	8. Waking up.

(Just me, the Rabid-Writer-Wrester-Faerie-Chick. I'm still just taking responsibility for SoCo, even if sometimes her behaviour makes me want to rethink that idea. WWF = not mine. Yeah.) 

Of course, the second I said I was fine, the knock grew about ten times more persistent, and I groaned a little. Some people do not know when to quit. And here I am, practically in my altogether…   
Yes, boys and girls, I sleep in my underwear.   
That's it.   
I know you're thanking me for that "too much information" moment. 

Flinging the door open, I peer through the curtain of auburn hanging in my face, and I immediately wish I'd at least thrown a sheet around me…   
But noooooooo…   
Here I am, standing there in my underwear and bra, looking Mr. Neighborhood Friendly Pothead in the face. 

"Um…I heard you yellin', which is saying a lot, saying as I usually sleep like the dead, and…I thought I'd see what was going on, and next thing I know you're standing here in…uh…yeah…"   
It seems my lack of clothing didn't hit him until now, and he was stumbling over his own words, and… 

"Aw, geez…sorry. I didn't even realize that you were in…that." 

"Come on, Van Dam. You think I'm going to buy the fact you've never seen a girl in her underwear before? Oooh, look, this is a bra. You know what's under there?" If he was going to be flustered about this, I certainly was going to have fun with it.   
Even if it was cruel.   
"How can you not realize I'm not wearing anything? I mean, you're a guy, and Mini-Me should be payin' a visit…" 

Shrugging a little, I stepped back into my room, starting to close the door, just a little.   
If I didn't…behave myself…things could turn out bad.   
Or good.   
Or just plain messy.   
Or a combination of all three… 

However, I actually (gasp!) had morals, and maybe Kari had reiterated that in me when I'd talked to her earlier – the comment about how I acted like a ho had stung a little, not that I was going to let anyone know that.   
"Anyway, I'm fine. And…you can go back to sleep, and all will be just…ducky." 


	9. Get me a night light.

(This is, in no way, anything but fictional. *L* So you can't sue me. Because SoCo's mine. No one else. I stated that. And I'm broke. But I'm going to Massachusetts come the end of the month, so I don't care! Huzzah!) 

"Are you sure? I mean, I heard what I did, and if you're not okay, that's okay, I guess, but probably not okay for you…" 

"Do you ever quit?" I couldn't help but snicker a little, once again opening the door, glancing quickly around – with the way things have been going, you can't be too careful when it comes to being seen. I certainly didn't want my butt kicked again.   
Nothin' wrong with the Ninja Turtle ice pack, but…the bruises that came with it were something I tried to avoid. 

Sitting on my bed, I couldn't help but find this whole situation amusing.   
Here I am, practically naked, and all he's worried about is the fact that I might not be okay. Trying to be helpful in the face of possible sex.   
Ladies and gentlemen, if this isn't proof that he's on drugs, I don't know what it is. 

"You don't have to act like you're queen of the world all the time…"   
"And you have to act like you're the greatest thing since cheeseburgers?" Touché, butthead. You're adorable, yes. You have a nice ass, yes. But your ego 'pointy finger at myself' thing has got to go. At least if you're gonna get anywhere with me.   
Not like I'm hoping, but… 

"I…" Once again, I'd rendered him speechless. Seems this isn't such a difficult feat. 

"I mean, I'm not going to say that you're not hot, and I'm not going to say that my carnal attraction meter has been broken due to excessively high amounts, because – well, that'd be a lie. And I'm not going to say I plan on telling you exactly what was wrong…"   
This was one of my defense strategies – play games in the face of potentially serious matters occurring. I'd done it before, and…   
Well, I suppose I was doing it again. 

"A man thinks about sex about every five point four seconds, you know that?" It was a casual observation, or as casual as it could be as I watched in stand in the doorway, just kinda staring at me, looking like he was having an aneurysm or something…   
Too much thought, I suppose. 

"What are you getting at?" 

"…what do you think I'm getting at, hrm?" Giving him a perfect Innocent Look™, I let my drawl come out full force, and in the back of my mind…   
I was wondering what the hell I was doing.   
Look at me, trying to seduce someone with supposedly less brains than a doorknob.   
"I only bite when threatened…" 

"Um…yeah. Well then." It was cute, the way he seemed to be attempting to dodge this, but…   
I wasn't blind. 

"There's some…unfinished business…ain't there?" 


	10. Too Quiet.

(And there's another appearance by SoCo's best friend, Kari Foley, who would be property of Indigo X – and she's not the boss of me! SoCo's running amok in chapter nine is just a muse gone wild, and in no way precalculated. WWF characters are beyond not mine.) 

"You did NOT." Kari looked at me like I'd been speaking Swahili a few moments ago, and I just leaned against the wall, that shit-eating grin plastered to my features. I'm sorry, I was in a damned good mood, and I'm sure it wouldn't have anything to do with last night… 

Who the hell am I trying to lie to? It had a lot to do with that. 

"Sure as hell did, Kari. And let me tell you…what he lacks in brains…" 

That was when I shut up, because lo and behold, Captain Asshole had decided to come into earshot, and he didn't look too pleased. And I understand that yeah, as my father, he had a right to think that the fact that his daughter was 'slightly promiscuous' was completely and totally wrong…   
But he didn't deserve the rights to maim anyone because of it. 

He didn't say anything, though, just gave me that glare that I hated seeing but knew I was damned good at in my own right –   
That look that meant he was up to no good, and by the time you found out what was going on, it was too late. 

And based on what had been going on last night? If he knew that…   
Oh shit.   
Oh…definite shit. _Montezuma's Revenge_ type shit. 

"Do I dare ask?" I muttered under my breath, tossing my hair behind me, then cracking my knuckles –   
It was quiet.   
Eerily quiet. 

Shit was goin' down, I could just feel it. 

"What he lacks in brains what, 'Gin? …you still with me? Hey…" 

I blinked a little, trying to bring myself down from Assumption Land, then shook my head.   
"I don't like it, Kar. I…it's quiet." 


	11. A Confrontation.

(Kari's Indigo X's, 'Taker is…well, I'm not gonna say who's he is, but he ain't mine, so don't beat me up! SoCo's mine. Please don't sue – I get paid Thursday, but I got bills to pay, people!) 

Green eyes focused a little harder on my father, never leaving him as he walked by, mumbling something under his breath and looking quite satisfied with himself…   
Never a good sign, really.   
Especially as of late, because he's had a streak of beating people up for no reason… 

And he'd noticed I was suspecting. 

"What the hell are you looking at?" That low southern snarl pushed a straight line to my buttons, and I could just feel that something bad had happened.   
Something bad, and…   
Probably bloody. 

"What the hell do you think? I know that you did something…"   
"Well, if my daughter wasn't such a slut, maybe I wouldn't have…" 

Those were the words I dreaded. He knew. He knew what had happened, and now he'd taken out his 'fatherly duties' to kick Rob's ass…   
Deep down, I think I love my dad, but…this is not something I really like.   
It was messy. It was…it wasn't right. 

"Don't you call me a slut EVER THE FUCK AGAIN." Sticks and stones and all that bullshit aside, I was pretty pissed off now. He had no right to call me a slut when he'd gone and stuck my mom and…   
Well, he'd stayed for a while, but then took off…   
God damn hypocrite. 

So now I was charging at him, screaming a thousand swear words an hour, fingernails bared, eyes full of rage – I was going to get my two cents in any way I could, and if meant throwing myself in an attack…   
That's what it meant. 

CRACK. 

Of course, every time I rage like this, I tend to forget common sense, which tells me that my father is much bigger than I am, and can kick my ass in at least seventeen different languages. The odds are almost impossible, but…   
Like I said, I've forgotten that temporarily. At least until it felt like my jaw came unhinged. 

"You good for nothin' hoochie, I'll teach you to disrespect…" 

Enough with this respect shit, all right? I'm sick of it, I'm sure the rest of the world is sick of it, and I'm gonna stand up for it. Even if it means getting my ass kicked.   
Which seemed to be what was happening, as I was backed against the wall, and…   
Kari was trying to pull him off, but she's small. No way she could actually help, but bless her heart for tryin'… 

CRUNCH. 

Blood seeped down, the oozy red liquid tangling in my lashes, burning my eyes, and I felt myself fall to the ground, a limp rag doll…   
No tears. I wasn't going to give him that victory. 

"…fuckin' bastard…" Words were whisper soft, but he seemed to already think he'd made a point – and he had.   
I was broken, bleeding…   
But more determined than ever. I wasn't a little girl…   
And I sure has hell wasn't HIS. 

"I'm all grown up, Daddy…never the fuck…again…" 

That's when it went black.   



	12. The Aftermath.

(Time to disclaimer-fy chapter twelve. Oooh. Anyway, Kari is still property of Indigo X, and I think the reason she doesn't beat me up is that there's a best-friendship between SoCo and Kari as well as Indy and myself. No WWF characters are mine, and that makes me want to tantrum. But I won't.) 

"Sons of bitches…" Kari sighed a little, pushing my hair back, trying to get the peroxide into the spot where the blood seemed to be seeping from, and even in my half-conscious state, I winced, grumbling a little about my father…   
Or maybe I'm just speaking in tongues, I don't know.   
"You know I'm going to have to take Fred after him, hon." 

"Kari Ann Foley, do you really have to resort to Fred?" With a bit of a struggle, I sat up, biting my lip, trying to see if there was any blood there –   
I must've lost a few gallons or so, because every time I sat up, I felt nauseous, like I was going to throw up or pass out…   
Not a good feeling. Then again, you'd think I'd be used to it by now. 

Right now, though, I was weighing the options. Kari wanted to use her Foley Insanity™, and deep down, I kind of wanted that to happen. I wanted her to take that flaming barbed-wire two by four with the happy face and beat the living hell out of my father…   
Then again, I'd tried to tear him apart with my bare hands, and look where that got me –   
Bleeding. In a lot of pain. 

And as much as I seem to be a sadistic little bitch, I'm sure as hell not going to put my friends on the line because I'm not happy with something. I'd rather die dealing with it myself.   
Of course, every time I said I was going to deal with it that way, I think I end up a tiny bit closer to that inevitable messy ending. 

"Yes, I'm going to use Fred, 'Gin. There's no way that you can talk me out of it, because…hell, look in the mirror." She thought for a moment, then shook her head.   
"On second thought, don't."   
I must really look like hell. 

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't try to talk you out of it, because if…well, I really don't care what kind of condition I'm in, I want to kick his ass…"   
"I'm not letting you get up."   
"That's why I'm not trying to. I'm not blonde, you know."   
"Yes, I know, and you're as dumb as some people…" 

And speak of the devil, we start talking about stupid people, and here he comes. 

"Damn…what the hell happened to you? Looks like freight train…"   
Always the master of perception, our boy Rob is. Ready, willing, and able to make a statement that reminds you that he's only aware of the completely obvious.   
If I didn't think he was attractive, I'd rearrange his face right now. 

Well, that was if I was physically able to rearrange anyone's face at the moment. 

"Her dad got to her…and where the hell have you been?" Kari backed off a little, biting her lip, wondering exactly what was going on.   
I mean, yeah, I told her that we fooled around and stuff, but…   
Hell, I don't even know if there's actual interest there, or if we're just fuck buddies. 

"Um…he came after me. Christ…SoCo, you okay?" 

"I'm FINE. I've never been better in my…ow!" Okay, so I was trying to lie my ass off, saying I was fine when I was definitely in pain, and pretty much rendered helpless – bruises were starting to form, and I couldn't help but wince as his fingers drifted over my bashed-in face.   
I didn't _mean_ to, really. But…it was more…something I couldn't control. 

"I'll…leave you two alone." Kari said, cracking her knuckles, looking slightly uncomfortable with the situation. "I need to go find Fred." 


	13. Confusion!

(Aaah, mass confusion. Well, just confusion on SoCo's part, but that's enough for me. She's still mine. No Kari, no RVD, no…no one else belongs to me. Just SoCo. Who is confused.) 

Sitting up again, though swearing and wincing in pain, I bit my lip, trying to figure out what to do, if I should ask what the hell happened, if I my dad actually did go after Rob…   
Well, he'd said that he had, but…   
GAR. 

I'm caring because? 

Well, to tell the truth, the guy's actually grown on me a little. Like a fungus, I guess. I mean, in the beginning, I really wasn't too thrilled about being around Rob, save for those few choice moments where I got to take a look that that bootie…   
But hey, there is a little more to things now. Even if a lot of it might have to do with more of the physical…   
But I still shouldn't care. 

What the hell's wrong with me? 

"Like I said, I'm fine, there's nothing to see here, just a walking, talking bruise. Nothing I won't bounce back from ten times stronger." I attempted a cheesy smile, like one of the ones I kept mumbling I wanted to wipe off DDP's face…   
Now THAT is annoying.   
"Believe me, I'll heal." 

"You shouldn't…you shouldn't have to deal with that. I mean, you're old enough to make your own decisions, right? You shouldn't have to live with him breathing down your neck anyway…" He was right, really. Bless his heart, the guy I'd thought wasn't too bright…actually had a clue.   
"You are doing what you want, right?" 

I thought about that for a moment, and glanced up at him. What the hell did he mean, anyway? And why was he looking at me with those pleading eyes, as if my answer would mean life or death.   
The boy…   
He was a little lacking in the cerebral department, but I supposed his heart was in the right place. 

And…why am I thinking like that? Why am I wanting to just let him worry about me, let him baby me like a damsel in distress, go against everything I'd brought myself up on…   
Be strong.   
Don't let a boy think he's better than you.   
Relationships suck. 

If that was true…why did I suddenly have the desire to go careening headfirst into one? 

"I guess so…I mean, I'm having fun, and…" 

He looked crushed. Was I SUPPOSED to say something else? Was I to know that I was going to feel suddenly guilty about the words that had just so innocently and effortlessly popped out of my mouth? It was the truth, wasn't it?   
But… 

"So…you've just been having fun? Nothing else?" Again, that pleading note in his voice, that little boy side that just made me want to take it back, because I knew, subconsciously, I'd hurt him.   
But…why did I care?   
Was I…   
No. 

I couldn't think of him anymore than…no. 

Bright green eyes glanced up at him, and I felt buzzers going off in my head, something…   
_Resist, you fuck, resist!_

"I…don't know." 


	14. Answers...kinda.

(Whoo-hoo! Chapter fourteen already? Wow. As long as you people keep wanting it, I'll keep writing it. I like my smartass SoCo. But…she's the only one that's mine. Still. And feedback is always appreciated, whether it be in review, AIM message, or email – maybe you people can decide where things need to go! I love you!) 

Unbeknownst to me, Kari had decided that she in fact was going to become the neighborhood friendly switchblade personality, and was meandering around the hallways with Fred.   
Yes, Fred the two by four.   
Don't we love the fact that if you are born into the Foley family, you are apparently certifiably insane? Kind of like if you're born into my family, you're certifiably frightening (at least at times?)   
Same difference. 

But anyway, she was going around, trying to find my dad, just wanting to beat the hell out of him. Why this had suddenly become personal to HER, I didn't know. I mean, it's my dad, my boyfriend/fuckbuddy/_whatever_, and…   
Well, I'm the walking bruise. Not anyone in her family. 

Maybe it's a friend thing, though. Not sure. 

Next thing I know, though, I'm hearing banshee screaming, lots of stuff being thrown/destroyed, and…I don't like it. Either Kari's coordination has gone completely awry, or she's found my dad. 

No matter what, I don't like it, and all I can do is hold my breath. 

-*- 

"You don't know? How can you not know? I…don't get it." In the meantime, Rob was mumbling confusedly at what I'd last said, and I was a little worried that he might hurt himself from thinking too hard – god knows there are plenty of people around here like that.   
Too much thought can be lethal to a cranium smacked a couple thousand times with a chair. 

And he's adorable when he's thinking. NO. Don't think like that. You don't like him. Resist, you fuck! 

"Tell you what, lemme give you a hypothetical situa…"   
"A hy-what?"   
"It's made up." I couldn't help but snicker a little, rolling my eyes before settling my gaze intently on him, trying to figure out how to tell him that there was the possibility I liked him without getting all touchy-feely.   
Well, touchy-feely in the emotional sense, anyhow. I have no issues with PHYSICAL touchy-feely. 

"Anyway, there's this girl, and…she's not exactly very girly. And really, she's not used to male attention, and all of the sudden, she's slept with this guy who really isn't the brightest…well, never mind that…but anyway…she kinda likes him, and she's not sure how to say, because she doesn't want him to think she's this complete moron…" 

"If the guy's not too bright, how's she gonna look like a moron?"   
He had a point. Of course, if I said I was the girl now, he was going to know that I thought he was kinda dumb at times…   
I talked myself into this, though. I was gonna have to talk myself out of it. 

"Well, actually…she looks like a moron right now, at least in her own eyes."   
For a moment, I let my gaze wander, trying to get my courage back together, make things look good, know that – I wasn't completely going to fuck it up. Even if I had.   
"This girl…that's me." 

"Oh." He didn't say anything else for a long while, and then out of the blue, just…kissed me.   
Well, that certainly didn't go as expected. 

"SoCo…"   
"Yeah?" I was waiting for the smack in the face now, I really was.   
"What's your real name?" 

"Um…Ginia." I blushed a little, taken by surprise at the simple question. "Well, actually, Virginia. Why?"   
"Just…wanted to know. It's pretty…fits you." 

I couldn't help but blush.   
"Nah…pretty wouldn't fit me." 

Of course, just then, Kari half-stumbled in, oozing blood everywhere – but at least she was in one piece.   
"Your dad paid." 

Oh…shit. I'd find out _how_ much later. 


	15. This is difficult because...?

(Well, here I am, doing absolutely nothing but being sickly. No one's mine but SoCo, and...you know the rest. "Blah blah blah undisputed champion..." OOPS! Wrong speech. Sorry 'bout that.) 

Sighing, I imagined that I should probably go see exactly how bad the damage had been done, because – well, yeah. I'd meant to do it myself, and that hadn't happened, so…   
Kari had attempted for me.   
And apparently, she did a pretty good job. I think. 

"Y…are you okay, though? I mean, you look like you bathed in blood or something…"   
"I'm good." Kari was starting to settle down a little, and much to my near-comfort, she set Fred down next to the door.   
I mean, I know I'm her friend and all, but sometimes, just her having Fred in her hand scared me. Just a little bit.   
Most alliances around here are pretty shaky, and I'm making a conscious effort never to make Kari Foley mad – and you know what? That's probably pretty wise of me. 

"Are you sure y'want to do that? I mean, if…" Wow. There's a lot of concern about me going to see what the hell Kari had done to my father. Why? I don't know.   
Oh yeah, maybe cos he's a tenacious bastard and could very likely be absolutely fine and ready to kill us all. 

And…that wouldn't be good. 

-*- 

"Um…'Taker…" It was weird calling him Dad, because even though he was biologically my father…well, it didn't fit. He hadn't been there for the longest time, and I've managed, somehow, to distance myself from him, in that family sense. 

A while back, when I was excessively bitter over all of this, I'd simply referred to him as a 'sperm donor.' After all, that's…   
No, I wasn't going to go back to being bitter and hating the whole world; it took far too much effort. And…well, hell, I didn't hate everyone.   
I was starting to get something along the line of friends. What a concept. 

But there he was, looking quite…beat up.   
So…why did I feel like, bad about it? I mean, he'd deserved it, but… 

Blood is thicker than water, and…well, there was blood everywhere.   
Blood. Of Kin.   
Family.   
Even if…well, we weren't close. 

That's when the gag reflex hit, and I spent the next twenty minutes in the bathroom, barfing my guts out. 

Why was I feeling like this?   



	16. No one appreciates tenacious anymore.

(Not mine. None of it's mine -- and if you sue me and take away my Excedrin, you're going to have a very angry fae-princess to deal with. Not what you want to do, trust me. But no one's mine but SoCo.) 

"I'm sorry I made you throw up – so so so so so sorry!" Kari had been apologizing for the past twenty-five minutes or so, and I felt like I was going to be sick again if she said it one more time. I mean, I have nothing against her apologizing, but… 

She didn't have to overdo it. 

Then again, since she'd found me with my head practically in the toilet, she'd been freaking out, thinking that this was all her fault, and like I said, practically apologizing more times than should be legal.   
And Rob…   
Well, he was just kind of standing in the doorway, asking if I was okay, and just… 

Well, I would say 'being a nuisance,' but…   
When you're throwing up what you had for lunch two days ago, pretty much anyone is a nuisance. 

I'm – definitely not liking this guilt trip, but there's not much else I can do, seeing as every time I try to convince myself that there was nothing wrong with beating the living tar out of my father…   
I'd throw up. 

Talk about some karma building up. 

-*- 

"Are you sure you're okay, SoCo? Cos…"   
"How many times do I have to tell you people that I'm absolutely fine? Nothing wrong with me…"   
Well, at least not physically, anymore. I'd stopped being sick about an hour ago, and now I was just sitting on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and the very concerned faces of my friends… 

Or boyfriend and friend. Or…   
Christ, I needed to figure out this whole deal. 

Shaking my head, I tried to stand up, still woozy from the blood loss of earlier and the ever-clinging feeling of nausea. I don't fall off my bearings often, but when I do, getting back on them – that's pretty damn difficult. 

Luckily, the second I started half-falling again, Rob and Kari both went to catch me, and I couldn't help but snicker as I was lifted into the former's arms.   
"Oh, so this is where you get to look like the hero, even though I can walk just fine and you can put me down…" 

"There's no way in Hell he's gonna put you down, girl. And if he does, you'll stay right where you fall, because…"   
"You're in no shape to be bouncing around." 

"But…bu…" I'm FINE. They don't realize that, because one of them is insane and the other one is just plain dumb. I know what I can handle, and…there's nothing wrong with me.   
Half-jumping, half-falling out of Rob's arms, I raise a brow at the two of them… 

And they both half-glare at me. Obviously, they don't like the fact that I'm trying to be tougher than I actually am. 

Kari just shook her head. "Van Dam, you think you can keep the girl restrained while I go get some food?"   
"Food?" I raised a brow, "after I just blew chunks everywhere?" 

"I know you, 'Gin." She winked a little, snickering on the way out. "You'll probably need it sooner or later." 


	17. Fighting Spirit.

(Hey hey! Just me again, proving that my muses get around in one day, and I've updated things. Just another chapter, no one but SoCo's mine. La-dee-dah.) 

"I want a match." 

Dark emerald eyes bored down into the desk, into McMahon, that sleazy piece of trash with his Grand Canyon-sized dimple…   
I didn't think he was going to let me do this, mainly because he knew I was a potentially dangerous threat to the Federation, and all the people who kiss his ass… 

Do I really care, though? No.   
Do I notice that I've got a band of tape around my midsection, and another at my arm?   
Of course I notice, you dumbass. 

I just have decided not to care. 

See, lately, everyone's been counting me out, thinking that I'm nothing more than RVD's fluffball girlfriend, and even I don't know what the hell is the deal with that…   
I know I'm more than a ringrat, and I'm going to make that perfectly clear. 

"And what makes you think I'm going to put you in a match, Virginia?" 

Oh, he thinks pulling my actual first name out of his magickal hat of vile bullshit is going to scare me. It doesn't, chump.   
And I still want my match. 

"Cos if you don't, I'll just go behind your back and set it up so you don't have a choice in the matter."   
Yes, I was pretty damned satisfied with myself at that point, because –   
Well, he knew I was pretty capable of said things.   
We all know how to pick fights, piss people off to the point they want a match, and… 

I know how things work. I really do. 

Tucking my lion's mane of red behind my ears, I smirked, then sauntered out, hearing something being mumbled about how he thought Jazz could rip me a new one…   
Yeah, she's a tough ghetto mutt, I'll give her that. 

I'm no giggling ringrat, though. And this… 

This is when the rest of the world finds that out.   



	18. Grr.

(Been a while, hasn't it? Anyway, just SoCo's mine. Yeah.) 

Stretching a little, I glanced out of the tiny locker room, tossing my long hair into a ponytail, then checking myself out in the mirror…   
Okay, so I'm definitely no Miss America, but… 

Leather pants. Dark green tank top. My Docs.   
Yeah…I suppose this'll work. 

"Well, here goes nothin', really." Stalking out of the room, I toyed with the tiny jade dagger I wore around my neck, glancing this way and that, and then finally… 

"Hey Van Dam, I look completely fuckable?" With a little smirk, I passed him in the hallway, and I could tell, just by the look in his eyes, what the answer to that question was.   
Of course. 

Then again, I wasn't making myself pretty to impress a boy. I was making myself pretty…   
To show up a mutt. 

-*- 

_This is the noise that keeps me awake, my head explodes and my body aches…_

That was the cue. My music, my pyros – yeah, those things are damned loud – blue light, popcorn fireworks…   
I'd thought about a strobe light, but then thought better of it. The last thing I needed was to go blind and end up having seizures. Or something like that. 

But I'm storming down the ramp now, dark eyes alight…   
This…would be fun. 

-*- 

And here she comes, barreling down the ramp, being the basic little snarling ghetto bitch she's always been, and… 

I get smacked in the face. Oh, is it on? Yeah.   
IT'S ON. 

It's not a title match, no, but I'm trying my best to kick her ass, trying to claw, punch, kick and otherwise just annihilate the competition… 

I tried to punch her, but by a horrid twist of fate, or something like that, she's dodged out of the way, and starts just kicking at me. Let it be known, though, that I'm not the type to back down unless I fall over dead, and… 

-*- 

I'm bleeding. Again.   
Seems the cuts from when I'd had from the latest skirmish with my father hadn't quite healed yet, and now there was kicking the hell out of me – 

But…I needed to get up. Needed to. 

Slowly, I clawed my way up one of the turnbuckles, just trying to stand….   
And here she comes. That's when I dive at her, screaming, nails barred, teeth bared – if she's gonna play dirty (and we all know she does), well…   
So was I. 

Claw…pull her own tricks against her.   
Knee into the small of her back.   
Send that elbow crashing down between her shoulder blades, just slightly off center… 

CRACK. 

One…   
Two… 

Three. 

I glanced up then, bright eyes full of fury, probably quite insane…   
I'd won.   



	19. O-kay...

(Okay, this is the last chapter of FCJ…so hop over, see Indigo X, and read Gilded Nightmares, if you haven't already. Then, come back here for my next SoCo creation, _Emeralds_. You gotta read GN before, though, because – well, it refers to it on occasion. Time frame stuff. And look out for more stuff, since I've been on a writing binge lately. Yay. Oh, Rob's not mine. Kari's Indigo X's.)

xix.

With a bit of a stagger, I headed up the ramp, blinking blood out of my eyes, only to see Kari and Rob standing there…

"What the hell?"

"You won!" Kari, as usual, was bouncing like a crackwhore, and Rob…

Well, as usual, Rob was grinning like an idiot.

"Yeah, well…I noticed that." 

Shrugging, I leaned against Rob, half smiling to myself. After all, I had proven myself…

See? No fluff, all buff.

"And…I'm bleedin'…"

"We'll get you patched up in a…"

"I'll clot, hon."

I don't think Rob was expecting that. 

Of course, I don't think Kari was either – then again, Kari ran around with a barbed wire two by four, clobbering people at will.

So…she might have.

"So – now what?" Glancing between the two of them, I giggled, but immediately shut up when I felt something turning me a little…

To face Rob.

I don't think I'll ever actually _remember _what happened next – but I was almost certain it involved spit swapping.

And you know what they say about kissin' in front of crowds – 

I guess we're an item now.

"So…yeah."

I don't know where this was gonna lead, but – 

Right now, I wanted to party.


End file.
